


they stare in the village

by jewishbucke



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Transphobia, Trans Evan "Buck" Buckley, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:00:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24974221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jewishbucke/pseuds/jewishbucke
Summary: The 118 has a ride-along who, for whatever reason, has it out for Buck.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 178





	they stare in the village

**Author's Note:**

> CONTENT WARNINGS:  
> \-- genitalia mention  
> \-- internalized transphobia  
> \-- transphobia (nothing physical)  
> \-- outdated terminology (reclaimed)
> 
> ...and I'm trans before anyone decides to, like, yell at me for writing Buck experiencing transphobia

Buck should just keep his mouth shut, because their shift is almost over and he’ll never have to see this guy- Jared -again.

But he’s fed up with the staring.

Every time Buck looks, whether they’re packing up after a call or standing around talking, Jared’s staring at him. Eyebrows knit together, creases on his forehead, mouth a thin line, looking at him like he’s a puzzle he can’t solve.

It’s weird.

The final straw is when he steps out of the bathroom to find him leaning up against one of the trucks. Staring at him with a sour look on his face, like Buck has just finished taking a shit in the middle of the firehouse.

 _Stay calm_ , he thinks as he slowly approaches him, throwing a glance upstairs to where everyone is throwing together something to eat. “Hey.” Buck drags his sweaty palms along his jeans, instantly regretting the action when the guy tracks the movement. _Predator._ "Did I do something to you? I just… you’ve been staring at me all day and it’s kind of weird, man.“

"You’re a liar, Buckley.”

He jerks back, taken off-guard by the accusation and hostility in his voice. Around the crew, he was polite- maybe a little… stand-offish but nothing like this, and Buck doesn’t quite know what to make of it. “Excuse me? Um… what’d I lie about?

"Seriously? And here I thought the cracks at your intelligence were just… that. Jokes.”

The comment stings, but he doesn’t get a chance to say anything in response because he’s already gone, jogging up the staircase to where the rest of the 118 is, and leaving Buck standing in the middle of the bay.

_What the hell just happened?_

He stares numbly at the floor, repeating the words- _You’re a liar, Buckley_ -in his head as if suddenly the intended meaning behind the words would be revealed to him if he just played them in a loop. Over and over and over and-

“Buck!”

He drags his eyes from the floor to the loft area where Eddie is leaning against the railing with the stupidest grin on his face. Buck can’t even stop the smile that spreads across his face in response, even though the last thing he feels like doing right now is smiling.

Eddie just does that to him- puts him in a good mood even when the world feels like it’s going to shit and the amazing thing is, he doesn’t even have to do anything.

“You coming?”

“Um.” He drags his hand through his hair, ignoring the way his hair clings to the uncomfortably sweaty skin, and blows out a breath. “Yeah, I’ll be right there.” Buck swallows the lump in his throat, tries to mentally prepare him for whatever he’s about to walk into upstairs- an awkward dinner or a confrontation. Maybe a brawl- the guy looked angry enough to hit him. Why, he didn’t know.

“Hurry up,” he calls from the railing.

Buck watches his retreating back for a moment before he drags himself up the stairs, every step a struggle. His limbs feel a little too heavy, his chest feels like it’s caving in, and everything gets worse when he reaches the top of the staircase; his body seems to have turned against him.

“Sorry,” he breathes out, sliding into the seat across from Eddie. No one really acknowledges his arrival, too captivated by a story Chimney is spinning, and for once he’s grateful for the lack of attention because it gives him a moment to try and calm himself.

Counting to ten, playing “I Spy” with himself, thinking of a positive memory, none of it helps. He’s in fight or flight mode but there is no threat. At least, not one anyone else can see and that’s the problem, isn’t it?

“Last night, we were out on a date and these two women came up to us, right? Buck… thought they were just being friendly… which they were being friendly, just a little too friendly–”

Eddie’s cut off by silverware clattering against the table and when Buck looks up, he sees their ride along with his fists clenched and cheeks ballooned out and nose scrunched up like someone has just dropped a stink bomb.

Everyone’s dead silent, almost afraid to breathe, and he exchanges a brief look with Eddie before focusing back on Jared… whose face is contorting in various ways as if he’s trying to say something- or trying to think of the right words.

“You’re supposed to be honest with people,” is what he finally spits out before locking eyes with Buck and continuing. “How are you so comfortable lying to people all the time? Do you not feel guilty when people look at you and think you’re a man? Do you think lying to people up until the moment you decide they deserve to know doesn’t hurt them? I mean… no one’s looking at you and thinking you have a vagina, because if they knew–”

“Whoa,” Hen says, the first one to break out of the stupor everyone has seemingly fallen into, raising her hands in almost mock surrender. “I’m going to stop you right there because every word out of your mouth has been varying levels of offensive and inappropriate. Trust me when I say that no one at this table has been hurt because Buck didn’t tell us he was trans until he was ready.”

“Hen’s right,” Bobby adds after a few minutes, still seeming to be a little in shock. “But what she forgot to mention is that… we think you should leave and if you want to do another ride along, find a different house.”

The only thing Buck can do is… stare; his vision is a little blurry, hearing is fuzzy and… muted, and everything feels like it’s moving too fast but not fast enough. Buck has heard and endured worse, especially when he still talked to his parents, but he still can’t help the way his body seems to… shut down and go into autopilot whenever someone has a bad reaction to knowing he’s trans.

He can handle burning buildings, tsunamis, car accidents, and his coworker dating his sister, but… this? Being told he’s hurting people because he decided his life has meaning and it isn’t his responsibility to suffer in silence so other people can be comfortable?

It's… different. It’s scarier than anything the job can throw at him, because he spent the better half of his early adulthood stressing that he was hurting people by going on testosterone, having top surgery, living… stealth.

They were the only constant in his life, but then he came to the 118 and they grew quieter, were a little less frequent, because he found a support system in the 118.

But the thoughts never left him.

Sometimes when someone flirted with him at a bar or on the job, they came back to taunt him by telling him that if they just knew, they’d be revolted. With Abby and Ali, they were there to tell him that they only stayed because they didn’t want to be the ones to dump the transsexual. And when Eddie kissed him for the first time, they were there to point out that Eddie wouldn’t have done that if he knew the truth.

But they’re not just irrational thoughts anymore. He can’t just ignore them, because now he knows there’s more than a sliver of truth to them.

He blinks and the world slowly comes back into focus.

Hen and Chimney are staring at him, talking to him but he can’t quite understand what they’re saying. Someone’s hand is rubbing slow circles on his back, occasionally scratching him through his shirt, and he thinks it’s Eddie because he’s the only one who touches him like this.

“…Buck? You with us?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, relaxing under Eddie’s touch, “I’m here. I’m fine.” Eddie’s hand stills on his back, Hen arches her eyebrow, and Chimney huffs out a laugh, but they don’t say anything. “Seriously, guys, I’m fine.”

Chimney’s the one who breaks. “You’re not fine, Buckaroo, and no one is going to judge you for not being okay. That was…”

“Brutal,” Hen chips in helpfully, coming around to his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and giving him a comforting squeeze. “We’re here for you, okay?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah, I know.”


End file.
